


Hunger

by LauraRoslin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, hunger, lack of food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:02:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraRoslin/pseuds/LauraRoslin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock can't be bothered with trivial things like eating and sleeping while working on a case until he pushes himself too far and John comes to his aid. Rated M for later chapters. (Also posted on FF)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sick

"Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock!" It was a dull roar in the back of Sherlock's mind. He blinked several times and looked around 221B. John was sitting in front of him with a concerned look on his face.

"Can I help you, John?"

"I've been calling your name for the past five minutes and you just now respond?" John laid his head in his hands and shook his head for a few moments before looking back up.

"I was thinking. We have no leads for Lestrade and another body will be found tomorrow."

"How do you-? Never mind. I wanted to ask you something."

"Mhmm?" Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Sherlock thought back for a moment, but his mind was soon drawn back to the case.

"Sherlock?"

"What!"

"When did you eat last?"

"I don't know; I'm not hungry."

John returned his head to his hands and groaned. If it weren't for him, Sherlock would probably be dead from lack of food or sleep. He stood and walked into the kitchen, finding an unopened bag of saltine crackers. It was better than nothing, and most likely the only edible food in the entire flat. He returned to Sherlock's side and put the crackers in his hand.

"Eat."

"I can't, eating slows my thinking down."

"Sherlock, you can't remember when the last time you ate was, but I can guarantee it wasn't today. I can also guarantee you haven't left that seat today." He forced the crackers at the detective again.

"I'm not hungry. Go phone Lestrade and tell him to look for any distinctive tattoos on the victim. They might be faded, so tell him to look carefully."

Sherlock closed his eyes and went deadly still as he thought deeply.

"Phone him yourself." Sherlock's eyes opened and narrowed at John.

"Please John?" He was begging, but John wouldn't cave in.

"I'll call if you'll eat."

Sherlock groaned and didn't answer. He would phone the Detective Inspector himself. He opened his eyes and jumped up, only for the world to tilt dramatically. He took a step, but he didn't know which way was down. He felt the world turning and soon found himself in the arms of John, only a few inches from the floor. John's face was blurry, and Sherlock blinked to clear his vision but it didn't help.

"Dammit Sherlock. I told you to eat! I'm going to put you in bed and you will eat. "

Sherlock tried to respond, but no words would come. John helped him to stand and kept his arm around Sherlock as they slowly made their way to Sherlock's room. John laid him in bed and returned a few moments later with the crackers.

"Eat." Sherlock shook his head. "Dammit Sherlock, just eat and you will feel better." He shook his head again. "If you don't eat, I will phone Lestrade and have him remove you from the case until you eat and sleep like a normal person."

Sherlock's eyes opened and he glared at John, but reached out for a cracker. He handed him one and Sherlock hesitantly ate it. They continued like this for several minutes until most of the package was gone. Sherlock was sitting up in the bed and his eyes weren't glazed over. His fingers were absently tapping on his knee and he was avoiding John's eyes.

"Feel better?"

Sherlock grudgingly answered positively.

"I'm going to go phone Lestrade and tell him what you said. You are going to get dressed and then we will go to Angelo's for a decent meal.

John left the room and returned with his phone. He dialed Lestrade's number and sat on the bed while Sherlock slowly made his way around the room gathering clothes. Sherlock ignored the conversation, already knowing what Lestrade's response would be. Instead, he concentrated on small, slow steps to stay on his feet. He was still dizzy, and quick movements made it worse. By the time John hung up, Sherlock was leaning against the wall, lightheaded and pale, but dressed.

"Come on Sherlock." John offered his arm and Sherlock gripped it tightly.

Together they walked down the stairs and out the door. John locked the flat and hailed a cab while Sherlock stood next to him with his eyes half closed.

"How are you feeling?"

Sherlock looked at him with a face twisted in pain. "Lightheaded, dizzy, headache; the sun is bright. This has never happened before."

"You haven't eaten in at least a week. Get in the cab."

He helped the detective into the cab and slid in beside him. Sherlock kept his grip on John's arm, and even laid his head on his shoulder. Sherlock was feeling sick. They were silent the entire ride to Angelo's, and Sherlock still didn't speak once they sat down at a table. He slumped forward with his head in his hands and his elbows on the table. John ordered soup for them both, but avoided his as he watched Sherlock eat.

"Feel any better?"

"Slightly."

"Finish your soup. We'll head back home and sleep. You can continue the case in the morning."

Sherlock nodded as he finished off the food and leaned back in his chair. John finished his, paid, and turned to help Sherlock up. He stood steady and was able to walk by himself. John kept his arm around Sherlock's waist just in case as they returned to a cab.

When they returned, John laid Sherlock in his bed and pulled the covers up over him. The room was dark as John left, and the voice that stopped him seemed smaller than normal.

"Don't leave."

John stopped and turned the light back on to look at Sherlock. Dark bags lined his eyes and he still looked pale. John wondered how he hadn't noticed the fatigue before. Sherlock hid himself too well.

"You need to sleep too. Sleep with me." John didn't hesitate.

He toed his shoes off and laid his jacket on the chair. He flipped the light back off and blindly made his way to the bed. He felt the covers move as Sherlock slid over, and John crawled in beside him. Then the covers shifted again as Sherlock curled up against John's side. John unconsciously, wrapped his arm around Sherlock, holding him close to him. Sherlock mumbled something, and John realized he was already asleep. John smiled as his eyes drifted closed and he too fell asleep.


	2. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleeping in the same bed together (for healing purposes, John tells himself) reveals several things the next morning.

Sherlock watched John out of half closed eyes. He was still asleep, with his arms wrapped around Sherlock. He realized that John looked beautiful. His brow wasn't creased in concern for Sherlock and his lips weren't downturned because of something stupid Sherlock had done. He was peaceful. Sherlock laid his head next to John's and pulled the covers back up over them; they had fallen off in the night. His headache and lightheadedness had gone away in the night, leaving him with only a dull ache for food. In short, he felt better. Just as Sherlock was beginning to drift off to sleep again, John stirred. John's eyes opened and it took a moment for him to register where he was and who he was with. His head turned and his eyes met Sherlock's steady blue ones.

"Good morning. Feeling better?"

"Yes."

John nodded in relief that slowly turned to embarrassment. His face was only an inch from Sherlock's and he was starting to grow hard. Sherlock appeared oblivious to the lack of distance between them, choosing to stare into John's eyes. It didn't help his blossoming erection.

"Your pupils are dilating."

John groaned silently. There was no way he would get out of this situation easily. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed and Sherlock's eyes. His too were dilating. He pointed this fact out to the omniscient detective.

"Pupils dilate when it's dark or when they're aroused."

"It's not dark." John wished he hadn't spoken.

"No, it's not. John, is there something you wish to share?"

John couldn't help his eyes as they wandered down Sherlock's lean body. He couldn't help his thoughts as he thought of what he looked like underneath the clothes. His eyes continued down until he saw what he had almost expected, Sherlock was as hard as he was. Without thinking, John reached out and rubbed it gently through the fabric of his pants. Sherlock jumped but then leaned into his touch.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes John?"

"Do want to do this?"

Sherlock met John's eyes and they both saw the unhindered attraction that they had hidden so well from the other. Sherlock nodded once as John continued rubbing him. Unsure of what he was doing, he reached forward and undid the top button on John's shirt. John did the same, marveling at the pale white skin that was revealed. Within minutes both of their shirts were lying on the floor with John's jeans. He was still rubbing Sherlock with one hand as he fought with his pants with the other. Sherlock was trying to get John's boxers off, but their arms kept getting tangled. In a moment of agreement they stopped. Sherlock slid his pants and boxers off while John did the same. John ran his eyes over Sherlock's long body. He was stunning and beautiful in the early morning light. Sherlock did the same while running a hand along John's chest.

"John, I need you." Sherlock's voice was deep and breathless and his eyes were wide.

John nodded in understanding as he slid down the bed to Sherlock's legs. He planted kisses along his thighs, feeling him shiver. He continued along one leg until he reached the top and then started at the bottom of the next leg. When he reached the top of that one, he lifted his hand and gripped Sherlock hard. Sherlock jumped and a moan escaped him. John smiled as he trailed a finger along its length.

"Dammit John."

John smiled wider as he wrapped his hand around Sherlock and began moving back and forth. Sherlock moaned again as his hips bucked. John moved his hands faster and Sherlock began thrusting to his rhythm. John brought him to the edge but pulled his hand away quickly. Sherlock looked up at him from the head of the bed with a look of desperation.

"Please John!"

John nodded his head and took Sherlock in his mouth. He repeated the actions of his hands with his mouth, leaving his hands free to roam around Sherlock's body. It didn't take Sherlock long to come, and he lay spent on the bed with his arms thrown out to the side. John's own erection itched to be relieved, and as he slid up on top of Sherlock, they brushed together, hardening Sherlock again quickly. Sherlock took a deep breath and pulled John's head down for a deep kiss.

"Your turn," the words were mumbled against his lips.

Sherlock flipped John over so that he was on top and began to kiss down John's stomach. He kissed down and over John's erection, and continued down. John moaned and threaded his hand tightly in Sherlock's hair.

"Sherlock, I can't wait."

Sherlock nodded and returned to John's erection, fingering it playfully. He ran one finger along it, back and forth for several moments, feeling John's entire body tense. He smiled and kissed the tip of it. Suddenly he took the entire length in his mouth and John bucked clear off the bed. When he fell back down, Sherlock replaced his mouth with his hand for a few moments before returning it to his mouth. He started slow and quickly sped up, feeling John near the edge. Sure enough, it didn't take long for John to come and then fall back to the bed. Sherlock crawled off John and plopped beside him, resting his head on John's chest. John's breathing began to slow down and he turned to look at Sherlock. He kissed him gently and smiled. Sherlock's stomach rumbled and John laughed.

"Get in the shower, I'll make breakfast."

Sherlock nodded and slid out of bed. John got out of the bed a few moments later and wrapped Sherlock's dressing gown around him. He threw the clothes in Sherlock's laundry basket and made his way to the kitchen. He found the fridge fully stocked and silently thanked Mrs. Hudson. He pulled out the ingredients for pancakes and set about mixing them together. Ten minutes later John heard Sherlock exit the bedroom and pick up his violin. He began playing absentmindedly, causing the flat to ring with the noise. John finished the pancakes and carried two plates out to the living room, handed one to Sherlock, and sat down across from him. Sherlock finished first, and sat watching John carefully. John finished and looked up.

"Can we try something?"

The look in Sherlock's eyes told John that his idea had nothing to do with the food they had just finished.

"It depends. What do you want to try?"

"Doing it again, only out here."

John smiled, he had an idea of his own.


End file.
